


Paranoia

by Dissonance



Category: Sam and Colby, youtube - Fandom
Genre: 'the sight', Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whump, and Sam can see them, ghosts are real, heavy solby, kat and sam are best friends, paranormal experiences, stalkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:26:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13426785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissonance/pseuds/Dissonance
Summary: There's something watching. It never stops. The question is, is it physical, or mental?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't leave silhouette's plot alone oops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finished chapter one's rewrite!! i literally just switched it some of the words and characters to fit my vision. this chapter was easy to rewrite, im afraid the others i'll probably just have to entirely redo

It should've been the best day of Sam's life. It should've been perfect, the most wonderful thing he ever experienced, but it wasn't. Like everything else in Sam's life, it could never go good for him, and there would always be something there to ruin his life.

And that something was, of course, _the Sight_.

It all started on one cool evening in Los Angeles, only a few gray clouds dotting the darkening horizon. There were barely any people around at that time, partly because it was nearing two am but mostly because it was getting colder by the second and it was starting to snow, something rare for California. You'd expect there would be people out, marveling in the oddness of it all, but no. Californians preferred warmth over new and exciting experiences.

Sam was walking along the beach, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and gloved hands gripping his cellphone as he listlessly scrolled through social media. Colby was beside him. They had chosen the beach solely because of the isolation of it, and because the chances of people being there while it was nearing twenty five degrees and snowing were very low. They'd have privacy to have their first date. On the beach, at two am, while it was snowing.

Sam couldn't have been happier.

They talked as they walked, feet sinking in the sand at each step, snow piling on their shoulders and decorating their coats as time went on. Sam's heart soared the whole time, his utter infatuation with Colby being reciprocated satisfying everything he was. He would never need anything again. It was perfect in every sense of the word.

Soon, they decided to sit, settling themselves by the waves as the calm sea washed up and down, soothing sounds of rippling water drifting through the air. It smelled like salt and cotton candy. An odd combination, but a good one nonetheless. They sat near each other, but not near enough to cause suspicion yet - still they talked, of stars, of the moon, and of their lives and their experiences. Their conversation was mostly about how Sam's 'sight' worked, but other than that, it was a very normal and wondrous discussion.

Soon after Sam was done explaining, things started to get more.. serious. Colby stared ahead, but his hand started to slip towards Sam's. They started getting closer to each other, and before he knew it, Colby began to turn to lean in for a kiss-

"HEY!"

Immediately they both froze, and Colby's hand slid off Sam's, back into his lap. He whirled around to see who disrupted their moment, and was baffled to see a man in dark clothing sauntering confidently toward them, a camera in his hand, pointing straight at the two, the light blinking to indicate he was recording.

Sam felt an sudden urge to smash the camera.

Colby stood up, another 'hey' passing his lips before Sam followed his lead, anger and disappointment burning in his irises. Who the hell was this, and what were they doing recording?

"If it's not too much to ask," Colby started, and Sam could hear annoyance and anger in his voice, sharpening the familiar deep tone. "Who might you be?"

The man pulled a smile, stark white teeth almost shining in the dark. "I'm no-one!" He responded energetically, and Sam crossed his arms, worry starting to grow in his stomach. What the _fuck_ was this dude's issue? At Sam's negative reaction, the man's smile disappeared, and he looked.. confused. "I have you on camera!" He took in a breath, blinking and staring at the two before going on. "See it here? I have the footage."

Sam was also confused. Scared now too. He resisted the urge to grab Colby's hand, his heart beat picking up. Who was this guy? Why had he been recording them? Why was he _still_ recording them?

"I've been following you, since you left your house." He broke the silence, shoulder-length red hair bouncing on his shoulders as he hopped in place excitedly. "I got it on camera. The walk, all the way here."

No. He hadn't seen anyone except for a crowd of drunken party-goers walking home from a club near the beach. He would've noticed something like a random guy in all black trailing them around all night, he was good at noticing stuff like that. It made sense after all - if he didn't notice it, he could end up dying, like all those times before. Good times, and bad times. A lot of broken ribs and a whole bunch of bruises, but you know, it had a happy ending. Totally worth it.

"No." Colby stated. "I-" He glanced at Sam for reassurance, who nodded, their frightened gazes meeting. "May I ask why exactly you were following us?" They were on camera. This was bound to get onto the internet. He needed to act nice, maybe this was all a misunderstanding. They had an image- it would not be good if they changed it.

"For the footage!" The man responded giddily, a bit too quickly. "I've got it now, all of it, you know." His smile widened considerably. 

Sam stared ahead at him. He was rubbing his thumb over a shiny ring adorning his ring finger, something Sam immediately identified as a wedding ring and a nervous habit. He looked back up, at the man's smile, the silent insanity in his eyes, and realized that this would not end well. Why hadn't they just ran in the first place?

So, inhaling sharply, Sam grabbed Colby by the wrist and took off toward the boardwalk.

Sam was used to running - he ran a lot, especially in the last few months, so he was agile, but the sand was something he hadn't really done before at this speed. He'd let go of Colby's hand just so he could maintain balance. He was this close to twisting his ankle and falling over, but luckily he managed to save himself by jumping, propelling himself off the ground.

Scrabbling up onto the pier, Sam huffed, panting before untying his scarf from around his neck - he needed more space to breathe. He noticed the lack of Colby, and was about to freak out before he heard the noise of another person coming up behind him, the familiar breathing of his boyfriend.

"What the _fuck_ ," Colby hissed, feet thudding on the wood beneath them. They stared at the horizon, the beach, gray waves crashing onto an equally gray shore. Snow drifted uselessly through the air, and the only color that seemed to be in sight was the man, standing alone about one hundred feet away, red hair swaying in the wind.

\--

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," Sam murmured tiredly as he shrugged off his jacket, shutting his bedroom door behind him. "I'm fine." He could feel Colby's gaze burning into his back as he threw his snowy shoes in the corner, pulling off his gloves and tossing them on his nightstand.

"Come on," Colby began, and Sam felt him push his body up against him from behind, throwing his arms over his shoulders. Sam smiled dimly, but the action was unable to completely dissolve his worry, the dreading feeling sitting behind his skull. "Remember our rules?"

Sam sighed. Yes, he did remember the rules. He would never forget the rules. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "I know you're not even slightly upset, maybe a little scared," He started, pulling away from Colby's grasp. "but I happen to be very. That was supposed to be good, you know? It was supposed to be just us. A special moment. And something _weird_ had to happen." He shook his head. "I swear to god I attract it. This weird, scary shit."

A pause. A long pause, too long. Sam narrowed his eyes, feeling the room grow cold, but not in any spiritual way. He turned around, meeting Colby's face, blue eyes directed toward the ground.

"Don't act like it's nothing!" Sam shouted, the beginnings of anger welling up inside him, overtaking the chills. "Wherever we go, something has to happen. "

Colby blinked, not daring to meet his gaze. "Not really," He responded quietly, not confident of his answer. He shuffled his feet.

" _Not really_?" Sam gaped. "Literally everywhere I go has to be interrupted with something or someone ready to kill me!" It was true. There was no denying it- the creature in Wisconsin, the boy in the tunnel, the woman at Sunken City, and hell, even his own bedroom was haunted. Every other couple days he'd see her, staring at him from the closet, and she wasn't going away. "Now, that crazy person has footage of us doing things nobody needs to see, and it's my fault." He swore under his breath, lowering his voice. "She came up right when- when we were going to- _Jesus fucking christ_ , Colby. Someone's going to notice. They're going to say something and everyone will start talking. It'll spread like wildfire!" 

"I know." Colby answered, voice small. Sam's breathing slowly sped up as he began to pace- the realization that people were going to _know_ hit him like a truck. It made him forget all about the insane redhead instantaneously. It had only been a month since he and Colby got together, and now everything was falling apart. He knew what they were doing was fine, but inside he couldn't help but believe it wasn't right, and he knew thousands of other people, millions, would think the same once the footage was released. He was ashamed. He didn't want anyone to know about this, not his roommates, not his fans. No-one. It was their secret, and no-one else's business.

"Hey, Sam," Colby's hands were on his shoulders now, and Sam looked up, feeling his racing thoughts begin dissipate at those warm, icy blue eyes, somehow still appearing soft with lightning crackling behind his pupils. "Calm down, okay? It'll be alright." He closed his eyes. "No, _we'll_ be alright. We'll think of something, okay?" He brought his arms around Sam, pulling him forward and into an embrace. Sam put his head on Colby's shoulder, and through muffled apple-scented fabric, he stayed silent, holding on tightly and never wanting to let go.

But this was only the start of the road downhill. There were many more hardships ahead, and not surprisingly, most of it had to do with the weirdness Sam was attracting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short but I wanted to get an update done before I fell into another crippling episode of this thing I call depression and lose all motivation to do anything and everything
> 
> {{ rewrite finished!! }}

When Sam woke up on that cold morning, he could sense that something had happened.

First of all, Colby wasn't next to him, which was odd, since Sam usually woke up way earlier than him, but there was a weight dipping the mattress on the edge of the bed. Sam sat up, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes as the covers slid down his chest. Across from him was Colby, slouched over, phone in his hands as he nervously scrolled through what looked like twitter.

"Morning," Sam greeted sweetly, voice groggy as he tried to soften the tense atmosphere. He yawned, stretching and crossing his legs. "What are you doing?

There was a pause, and Colby shook his head, before worriedly replying, "Sam, you were right," His voice was quiet, quick, scared even. It didn't sound good. "The guy posted the video. He fucking titled it _Solby is real: PROOF!_. How bad can this get?"

Sam's heart seemed to stop for second, and his expression went grim as he began slowly crawling over to where Colby sat, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, wide, frightened blue eyes inspecting Colby's phone screen, the quick passing images as he scrolled endlessly through the tweets he was mentioned in.

There were so many, and most had included a zoomed-in picture of one particular moment Sam remembered vividly in his head- Colby's hand sliding over his, fingers interlocking for a second when they hadn't noticed the man. He filmed that, so he must've filmed their heads getting closer, lips mere inches apart before he spoke. It was too obvious to be ignored, and like Sam expected, people were starting to figure it out.

"Shit," Was all Sam had to say, bringing his hands to hide his face. "God dang it, I told you, Colby. I told you this would happen, but you said everything would be fine." He shook his head. "This isn't _fine_ , Colby. They _know_. Everyone knows." He expected someone to come knocking on their door, a mob with pitchforks and torches, ready to chase them out of California and strip them of all their possessions. It felt like the end of the world, and in Sam's mind, it very well was.

"I know, I know it's bad, but it'll be okay-"

Before Sam knew it, he was up, walking toward the door before turning around, meeting Colby's startled gaze. "No, it _won't_ be okay," He hissed, yelling even though his voice was still a whisper. He was thinking, thoughts racing past a million miles a second. Were their friends even okay with this? Sure, they joked a lot about that kind of stuff, but were they just jokes, or was it actually mockery? Sam had never paid enough attention when they were messing around to differentiate the two. And Jake, taking Elton's spot in the house because of some fight Sam didn't know anything about and didn't care about, a person he didn't know, wasn't on friend terms with yet. He didn't know anything about Jake. Anything at all. "Everyone's going to know." Sam breathed, voice catching. "God dammit, this is crazy, insane, stupid!" He started to pace, a more straight forward nervous habit than the man's previous ring-touching, but a nervous habit nonetheless. 

Colby stood, but instead of the dread Sam had been expecting, his eyes had lit up, something sparked behind them. Immediately offended by this lack of worry, Sam was about to say something when Colby spoke.

"I have an idea."

\--

Her name was Katrina Stuart. People, including herself, called her Kat.

She was a closeted lesbian, and she had went to school with Sam Golbach until he graduated. She never thought that would matter to him, a somewhat famous person now, years after their small friendship. But, apparently it had mattered, it mattered a lot. Because he and his best friend showed up on her doorstep on January 22nd, 2018, saying he needed help, fast.

He needed someone to vouch for him. To date him, but not really date him. Just to be there as a cover for his relationship, which Katrina immediately recognized was with the male brunette standing awkwardly behind him. He was gay. Sam was one of the straightest acting people she'd ever met, and he was gay. Or at least bisexual, but still, _gay_ , and to make it even more unbelievable, he was gay for his even straighter acting best friend.

Surprises come where you least expect 'em, right?

After a few more minutes of talking, of Sam saying she could come over to their freaking _mansion_ anytime she wanted to hang out, to act all lovey dovey around him, and even have her own room, she accepted. Heck, she was ready to pack her bags. _But,_ Sam had said, _there are some rules_.

The first rule was that she needed to sleep in Colby's room, and remember to keep the door locked whenever she was inside. The second was to tell whoever she decided to date on her own time that she was doing this for Sam - not explicitly, keeping names censored, but just a small disclaimer, so there was no huge drama channel attracting scandal. The third rule was to not tell anyone else, which was obvious and something Kat didn't need to be reminded of. The last rule was unofficial, affectionately muttered by one Colby Brock with his hands on Sam's shoulders: _Do not fall in love with Sam. I know it's hard, but I'd rather you didn't, since he's a little taken._

Katrina had laughed, doubling over in the hilarity of it all before she told them, the first people she'd ever come out to - she didn't fancy guys at all, a statement that seemed to lighten the whole situation. Colby, who had seemed a bit wary of the whole thing even though he stated it was his idea, now seemed completely okay with it. Sam was happy, a great improvement to his anxious, paranoid mood when he first arrived. Katrina momentarily wondered what happened to the blonde's confidently arrogant attitude from high school, but she reassured herself that people could change, something didn't _have_ to happen. She'd changed a lot, and nothing huge had gone on in her life after school. She had been dating guys for awhile, trying to make herself feel something for one of them for a year after she graduated, before she realized she was an utter idiot and there was a reason she wasn't attracted.

"Well, that was easier that I thought it'd be," Sam murmured, sighing blissfully. "I feel so much better. This _is_ going to be okay. There'll be accusations, but that's all they'll be." He glanced at Colby, warmth in his blue eyes. "Accusations."

Kat smirked. This was going to be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so tired my mood just reflects in my writing. depressional episode isn't here yet, and im getting my binder on saturday and honestly I couldn't be happier. enjoy the chapter

Colby's eyes were closed. His head hurt, and he felt so tired, it would be hard to stay awake if it wasn't for the living noise machine sitting next to him.

Brennen Taylor was currently rattling off about something, voice flying at a thousand miles a minute as he screamed into his camera, thankfully pointing it out of view of Colby. Sam was with Katrina, filming some video about something, and Colby was with Brennen, vlogging. He'd be having fun if it wasn't for his hell of a migraine, and the intense fatigue he felt every second. It was like after they recruited Katrina, his body just shut down.

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe they shouldn't have enlisted Katrina's help. They didn't know her very well - they'd been friends for the last year of high school, but it was more on Sam's side- Colby had been a little more distant. He'd always thought Sam had feelings for her, so he let them be, but it turned out everything was the opposite.

Okay, maybe it wasn't a sign. Maybe he was just tired, simple as that.

They were in the middle of a department store, and it sounded like Brennen was down the aisle more, messing with people and laughing, muttering apologys as he retreated and waited for more victims. Colby wasn't really paying attention to what the whole joke was about - leaning back, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed as his brain continued to torture him. And, because of that, he didn't notice Brennen slowly creeping toward him, footsteps soft and hands reaching out.

When he felt the touch on his shoulder, Colby jumped, eyes flying open as he threw his fist to the side, colliding with Brennen's face in the span of what seemed like no time at all. Brennen stumbled back, fazed by the punch, holding his face gingerly as he stared up at Colby.

"Dude," He began, barely keeping his grip on his camera, lips curving into one of those dazzling white smiles as his eyes lit up with amusement, "that was amazing."

\--

Leaving the local Target that they were likely to be kicked out of if they came back, Colby was still drained, walking sluggishly, slouching. Brennen was the total opposite, staring straight ahead with that kind of arrogant confidence Colby had left in high school. He was standing tall, that smirk never leaving his face. He was still sputtering nonsense about the punch.

"Dude, I can't believe you did that!" He basically shouted, hand brushing his now-bruised cheekbone, awe decorating his face. "It actually hurt, too. Last time you punched me it was way softer than that. Have you been working out?"

Colby glanced to the side, eyes drooping as he stared at his friend. No, he hadn't necessarily been working out, more of figuring out ways to get better at defense, so just in case anything happened to Sam again, he could help. Maybe. Hopefully. He would never say that aloud to Brennen, though, and as he rubbed his now bruising knuckles he forced a smile. "Yeah, have been since you won in that fight, bro. It's called being inspired." He lied effortlessly, crossing his arms.

"Wow, well," Brennen said, standing in place and waiting for Colby to stop walking, look at him. When their eyes met, Brennen pulled into another grin, sparkling. Colby narrowed his eyes amusedly. He couldn't help but smile and cock his head. "I have been known to inspire." Brennen deadpanned.

Colby rolled his eyes.

\--

It was late. Too late, reaching around three in the morning. Colby laid alone on Sam's bed, sprawled across the mattress with his face behind his phone. His head was thrown over the side of it, hair hanging down over his eyes. He was worrying, yes, but trying to be very nonchalant about it. He had felt the eyes of his roommates watching him after the whole "solby" scandal, and didn't want them to get any more suspicious by him pressing them if they'd heard from Sam and Kat. They were probably fine. Sam was fine. Definitely not alone on a country road in the middle of nowhere, being sucked by a giant fucking human leech ghost, slowly dying without Colby knowing, without his protection-

He pushed the thoughts, the twisted images out of his head. That kind of thing wouldn't happen again. There would be no more scars decorating Sam's body, no more gruesome bruises or broken bones. Colby would make sure of it, he'd go to the ends of the earth if it meant Sam never got hurt again.

Yet, the moment the bedroom door opened, Colby realized he had already failed.

There stood Sam, nose bleeding, thin streams of red running down the side of his face. His right eye was swollen, red and bruised. His cheekbone was splashed with ugly purples, browns, and blacks, and he was holding his right arm gingerly by his chest, sullen eyes directed toward the floor.

Colby's grip loosened, and he dropped his phone. 

"What happened?" He demanded, flipping over before pushing himself off the mattress roughly, disregarding the piece of metal lying on the ground entirely. He didn't care - Sam was in pieces in front of him. Was it worse than it looked? Were there more injuries, hidden beneath clothing? What had happened? _Why hadn't he been there to stop it?_

Sam closed the door, softly, slowly. A very Sam like gesture, even when they hadn't been together.

"I was with Kat," He started sheepishly, voice quiet, raw in the silence. "We were drinking. A lot of people were drinking. I think someone recognized me, and they knew about all the allegations.. I don't think they were very happy about it." He shrugged, and a brief expression of painful discomfort passed over his face. "There was a fight, but I got outta there before the police showed. I dunno where Kat is. She texted me telling me she was fine, but there was a lotta broken stuff, and glass.. glass everywhere.."

A deep, growing sense of guilt washed over Colby like a thick blanket of ink. He gaped at Sam, who had begun to dispose of his jacket. Colby moved forward, feeling it was his duty to help, hearing Sam's little winces as he worked to free his wounded arm. "I think I just bruised it." He murmured as he finally removed his hand from the sleeve. "I was thrown on top of a table, so." Sam shrugged again, having not learned from the previous attempt, this time swearing under his breath and closing his eyes

"Jesus christ.." Colby breathed, finally noticing the splatters of blood decorating Sam's shirt, the tears near the shoulder from what he could _see_ was broken glass, embedded in Sam's skin, the largest piece appearing to be a few inches long. "I don't think it's _just bruised_ , Sam." He murmured. "We need to get you to a doctor-"

"No!" Sam's good hand landed on Colby's shoulder, and he looked up, their eyes meeting. Sam's were rimmed with tears unable to spill, the redness of the swollen one sending chills through Colby's body. Sam was in bad shape. He needed help. But, he knew Sam didn't like hospitals. "Please, not tonight. I'm so tired. I just want to sleep." He begged.

Colby sighed, shaking his head, letting the silence run a few seconds longer than it should've, thinking, before he looked back up. "Fine." He whispered. "But let me just make sure you don't- you don't _bleed_ all over the bed." That statement was a bit too common for his liking.

Other than that, Colby was relieved he had already prepared for this kind of situation. Well, not specifically this one, more of "a little ghost girl returns and gives Sam short term stomach cancer again" situation, but still. A bag sat in the corner, a black backpack, and Colby unzipped the largest compartment, digging around in there before his hand came upon the gauze. He set it next to him before he found a rag, stuffed down deep weirdly hidden for what it was. He didn't remember doing that, but whatever. He quickly exited the room, wetting the rag enough and squeezing more water out so that it didn't drip before returning. When he did, Sam was lying on back on the bed, eyes closed. His chest was rising and falling slowly, and Colby was afraid for a moment he'd fallen asleep.

"I'm back," Colby said quickly, and luckily Sam hadn't actually passed out again, only closed his eyes to rest in his exhaustion. He sat up, pastel blue eyes barely open, groaning tiredly. "Here just- just take off your shirt."

The gesture had always been super intimate, kinda awkward. Colby never seemed to stop staring when it happened. Sam was so skinny, too skinny. The scars that dotted his torso made Colby nauseous, some pale and almost white, others saturated pink with blood still pressing against the thin skin. He would always pay too much attention when Sam took his shirt off, from that encounter that seemed ages ago. When he spotted the bruises, the redness of the wound from the incident in the tunnel - he had never been able to unsee it. _Now,_ He told himself, eyeing Sam as he slid the fabric carefully over his head, _Sam'll have even more scars, 'cause I wasn't there to help._

Sam tossed the shirt aside. He'd finally started to gain a bit more weight after his bout of not eating when he first discovered his sight - it was harder to make out his ribs, but not impossible. Still too visible for it to be even considered progress toward good health. He was still terribly underweight. Colby wasn't underweight, pretty average, maybe a little higher from muscle mass. Sam didn't even _have_ much muscle mass, if any at all. It was concerning.

But, even if he wasn't unhealthily thin, Sam still would have problems. 

As Colby set the rag on Sam's shoulder, the blonde bent forward, wincing loudly as the water soaked into the wound. As he did, Colby attempted to pull out the glass shards with his bare hands. They weren't small enough to evade his fingers thankfully, and came out with little resistance. It still hurt, though, judging by the noises Sam was making. He was sniffling, trying his best not to let himself cry.

"You're okay, Sam," Colby reassured, voice soft. His hand slipped into Sam's. "I'm here, and you're okay, okay? You'll be okay as long as I'm with you."

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know," He whispered, voice barely audible as he shook his head. He squeezed Colby's hand back, and a surge of affections ran through him. "It just hurts. I've never had so many tiny tears in my skin, it's so wrong-"

"And you never will again." He cut him off. "I'll make sure-"

Then the loud sound of something vibrating on the wooden floor echoed through the air.

Colby paused, sighing and sending an apologetic glance toward his boyfriend before standing, going over to retrieve the phone. It was lying on it's face, and when he flipped it over, he didn't see a caller name. It was three in the morning, going on four. Who the hell was calling?

"Colby and Sam!" A man's voice screamed into his ear, slightly muffled by the tinny sound of the phone's speaker. "Are you two awake?"

Something was familiar about the voice. Not a good familiar, though. It sent an eerie chill down Colby's spine, like the feeling you get when someone's watching you, or you suspect so. The sensation of being alone in a room with all the lights off, too dark to see if anyone's there with you, or when you're taking a shower and you feel the need to look past the shower curtain every two seconds to make sure no-one was there to kill you. He felt the intense need to _HANG UP_ , but curiosity took hold. He kept listening.

"Ah, it seems you are," The voice continued, and the feeling became stronger, seeming to sap all the warmth out of Colby's body. He was frozen. "Oh! Why's Sam bleeding?"

Colby stood abruptly, spinning on his heel to get a good look around the room. Sam was sitting up, shirtless and aware. Colby turned the phone on speaker, tossing it at Sam as his eyes raked every corner of the bedroom, every nook and cranny, for the glint of a lens or a blinking red light.

"What are you doing?" The man, who Colby know knew was the same person from the beach that night, asked. "Standing with your back to me is a little rude."

Whipping around, Colby rushed toward Sam's window. He pulled the shades up, and there it was, sitting right in the corner of the window. He grabbed it, throwing it on the floor, before grinding it into the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha just got lazy at the end because im literally going to pass out from sleep deprivation i hate insomnia.. sorry for spelling mistakes and brennen's repetitive use of "dude" i just can't find it in myself to write bro


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have way more but they don't really fit into the chapter so you get this short little piece of garbage to tide you over, im sorry

"Oh, it seems you've found me."

Sam was inwardly screaming - Colby's eyes were wide and his pupils were small as he stomped over and over on the small device, hearing it crack and break under his foot. His shoulder was on fire and his face ached, but to add to it all, apparently someone had hidden a camera on his window. And they had been watching them. _For how long?_ Came Sam's paranoid mindset, the dread already started to build in his stomach. What if it had been there for days? Weeks even? What if that person, the person on the phone, had been watching them every single night, seeing them _sleep together_? What if he had footage of couple-y things they did? That would be damning evidence if released to the public!

"What the fuck," Sam breathed, pushing himself off the bed, feeling his joints ache like he was one hundred times older than he actually was. The displeasing memory of being thrown through a window flew through his mind, but he shook it away. There were more pressing matters at hand. "A camera? In my room?" He gaped.

"Well, of course!" The man on the other end responded joyously. "It's been in your room for a long time, Sam. Pity you never bother with the window - you would've found it earlier. Maybe saved yourself from some embarrassment."

Colby was finally done with the camera, now completely shattered - he frantically reached to grab the phone off the bed, ready to cancel the call before the man's voice once again echoed throughout the room.

"I'm going to post all the footage of you, Colby and Sam," he cooed, as if sensing Colby's actions, "Everyone will see that you are a couple, and all the things you do with each other in bed.."

"No!" Sam heard himself shout, feeling like he wasn't in control of his actions. "No, please don't, don't do it. Please." He pleaded, eyes focused on the phone like it was an actual person, holding his pained arm tightly to his side.

A hum from the phone, and Sam's heart started to pick up pace. He felt like vomiting. "And if I don't? What will you do for me?" He was.. he was bargaining. He wanted something from them. The need to puke grew stronger as all the situations rushed through his mind at the speed of one of those japanese trains. Was it money? Something stupid like a shout out? Or something worse, like more footage, of much more intimate things. He wouldn't agree, no. He would not stoop to those lows, he wouldn't just do _anything_ -

"Anything!" Colby's voice was strained and unnaturally high, and Sam's gaze went from the phone to him. Anything. _Anything_. Now, Sam didn't want people to know, no, he didn't, and actually, he would rather have his channel deleted. But, he wouldn't do absolutely _anything_ to keep it a secret. He wasn't that utterly _ashamed_ of their relationship to be willing to give anything or do anything to keep it a secret.

"Anything?" The voice continued, savvy and sharp, ringing throughout the room. It seemed.. pleased. "Anything at all?"

Colby responded with a yes at a shocking speed and assurance. Sam couldn't speak - his lips wouldn't move, and even if they could, he doubted anything but a pitiful squeak would come out. His mouth was dry and useless.

 _Anything_.

 _Anything at all_.

\--

"He wants us to do _what_?"

"A lot of things," Colby was pacing - bare feet tapping softly against the wood paneled floors, he looked on the verge of passing out. His skin was pale and his fingers were twitchy - never a good sign in a panic-inducing situation, and definitely not good for Colby. "Too many things. Film all of them, too, and give the footage to him." He shook his head, once, twice, pupils dilated.

Sam swallowed thickly, eyes following the movements of his partner. "Colby," He started softly, choosing to ignore their problems for that moment. "Sit down. You look sick."

It wasn't like Sam was one to talk - shoulder dotted with puncture wounds, half face swollen and covered in bruises, blood seeping out of a good amount of places on him, he probably looked like a goddamn zombie. He was lucky when he came in none of his other roommates were in his path - they'd been getting more and more nosy as of late, trying desperately to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. To them, it probably seemed like he was simply losing his mind. Night terrors, sleep walking, constant injuries, you know, the works. Maybe they thought something happened, something traumatizing that messed Sam up. Like a form of mild PTSD.

Technically, something did, but that was besides the point.

"No, I'm fine," Colby retorted, usually smooth and low voice still oddly high, shaky and breathless. It didn't sound good. "Besides, we have more important things to worry about, like this! He wants - he wants me to do _things_ to you, Sam. Bad things."

This peaked Sam's interest, but not in a good way. "You know," He started tentatively, trying to think of the possible things that the man would want Colby to do to him, putting a hand out in front of Colby to cease his pacing. He seemed startled at the gesture. "we could always let him release it. I mean, it's bad, but it can't be _that_ bad."

Shock radiated from Colby, and he pushed Sam's arm away, continuing that nervous habit the brunette shared with him. He frowned, shaking his head. "What? No!" He shouted back, almost offended. "Are you crazy? This is _private_ stuff, man. Not like, a picture of my hand on yours. That's tame. This is _hours_ , Sam, of everything that's happened in your room for who knows how long!"

Sam exhaled slowly. Everything that happened in his room. Everything. Getting dressed in the morning, talking to himself, editing videos in his underwear. Not even to mention the stuff that involved Colby. That footage could _not_ be released to the public, Sam realized, no matter what.

"Shit." he whispered, seeing the severity of it all. "Couldn't we just.. couldn't we just, you know.." Sam understood that there was no way out of this deal. No matter what they did to get out of it, the footage would be released at one sign of betrayal. Hours of things no one else should see. "Well," he started, swallowing his anxiety. "What kind of stuff does he want you to do?"

There was a silence, a long-ass pause that really just irked him. He wanted to know, he _needed_ to know. Why couldn't he just spit it out?

Colby cleared his throat, blue eyes flickering toward the wooden floors as Sam glared on, arms crossed with a stern expression. "Hurt you," Colby whispered, almost inaudible. He seemed ashamed of the answer, or afraid, flexing his fingers next to his side.

Sam shook his head, unfazed. "How so?"

"I wouldn't do it. Won't," Colby clarified hurriedly, glancing at Sam with frightened eyes. "I'd never do anything like that to you. Never."

A sigh escaped Sam's mouth. _Just tell me!_ "Do _what_?" He asked, exasperated. Colby looked up at him, and and when he went to speak, Sam felt like the words that left his lips would kill him. And, of course, they probably would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it physically pains me to write "colby and sam"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, sobbing into a pillow: iloveyousomuchteastakingover

_" there is a forest where the din_  
_of iron branches sounds_  
_a mighty river roars between_  
_and whoever looks therein_  
_sees the heavens all black with sin,_  
_sees not it's depths, nor bounds._

_" athwart the swinging branches cast,_  
_soft rays of sunshine pour ;_  
_then comes the fearful wintry blast ;_  
_our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast ;_  
_pallid lips say, ' it is past!_  
_we can return no more! '_  
voices of the night, prelude; pg 2 

The sun shone dimly through the dark clouds, still rising as the day began. The trees around were bare, dark bark contrasting against the pale gray sky, snowflakes falling peacefully through the cold air. The sound of a nearby river running rapidly through the forest was the only thing to be heard other than the quiet howl of wind, and the soft noises of footsteps crunching in the snow.

"How far away is it?" 

"Close," Colby responded, voice odd-sounding in the area, a place that was not tasked with human chatter in so long. "I can hear it."

"Well yeah, so can I," The blonde in front of him retorted, quickening his pace. "I think I can see it, too." Snow flew up behind his boots as he began to jog, the contents of his pack clinking behind him. Colby smirked, before taking off after him.

After cresting a hill, the trees abruptly thinned out, and ahead of them was their destination. You could tell how utterly freezing the river was just by looking at it. It was a wonder it wasn't frozen to some degree - some slush sat near the edge, barely disturbed by the water's movement. Large, flat rocks dotted the surface, perfect for jumping on to pass the stream, but each was covered in a thick frost, snow settled neatly on top. The rapids were white capped, and if you stepped in it it would definitely topple you over and whisk you away before you could ever make a sound.

"Wow," Sam breathed. Colby glanced over at him, scarf wrapped up to his chin, warm breath visible in the crisp air, soft blue eyes wide in what you could only detect as amazement. Sam had always been one for nature - lighting up at the simple sight of sunbeams drifting through the trees in the summer, leaves falling slowly through the pumpkin spice-scented air in the autumn, monarch butterflies making their way across blue skies in the spring. He would sit there and marvel in it all, waste time just observing, smiling at how beautiful everything was. Colby was different - more proactive, to put it in simpler terms. He didn't dwell on the little things, and instead liked to spend all his time doing something. Important somethings. "Would you look at that!"

"Yeah," Colby muttered wearily, eyes trained on the ground as he slowly stepped down the hill, trying his best not to fall over. "but we're not here to just look around, you know." He saw Sam's sigh coming from a mile away, a small groan that they actually had to get something done and not just watch snow fall all day. "Okay, so, we're looking for a tree, broken across the river, right?"

"I mean, I wouldn't know," Sam murmured in response, warm tone gone, something unstable sitting in the place of it. "You had the phone when you got the info."

 

The camera was rolling. Standing on a half rotten tree trunk laid across the river, water roaring underneath, fear was instilled in Sam's heart. He was beginning to regret ever agreeing to this, the whole possibility of everything being posted to youtube seeming less horrible in that moment. His legs shook, and he did his all to make sure his knees didn't break under him, because falling into the river ahead of schedule would set everything off in the wrong direction.

"Okay, Sam," Colby sounded as equally unsure of this situation was him, maybe even more so. After all, the brunette hadn't had his fear hardened over months of spooky occurrences and near death, so he was justified in his cowardice. "Now, I just gotta- I have to-"

"I know. Just do it," Sam whispered, getting his footing back, the wind threatening to knock him over. It bit at his ears and nose, and he wished he'd brought a hat. He took in a deep breath, turning toward the other bank of the river, like he'd been using the trunk as a bridge to simply cross the it. He closed his eyes. "We have to pretend. Get control of yourself, act normal."

 _Okay, you're filming a video,_ Sam told himself, exhaling carefully, trying to will away the sounds of the water underneath him, _it's a normal day, and you're with Colby, crossing a river when disaster strikes. He knocks you into the river._ It was an odd request, a dangerous one too. But they would deliver on it- anything to keep the footage out of the public's eye.

There was a short not so silent pause before someone spoke again."Woah, look at that," Came Colby's voice, still noticeably shaky but being held together unstably. Sam knew it was coming, so he braced himself, back facing the camera as he took a step forward, trying to make his stance seem relaxed. "It's not even frozen-"

Colby's shoulder hit into his side roughly, and Sam couldn't even shout as he slipped, shoes with absolutely zero traction sliding along the thin ice clinging to the tree underneath. Unlike Sam's other falls, this wasn't prolonged. There was no inbetween - first, he was standing fine, and then he was submerged. His body was thrust into the brain-numbingly cold waters, thrown into the icy depths. The river rushed past his ears, louder than anything he'd ever heard. It felt like he was on fire, clothes growing heavy with flames and bare skin being eaten away. A scream tore from his throat, but instead of any noise, the fire forced its way down his throat, his nose, lungs begging for them to stop.

It was all happening so fast, too fast for Sam's brain to handle. Where was Colby? Why hadn't he grabbed his foot? That was the plan- Sam would fall, look like he was submerged before they cut the footage. Colby would grab him before he was lost to the rapids. _So where was he_?

Suddenly, Sam felt air climb back into his chest, and he took a huge gulp of it - his head had breached, and in an attempt to stay afloat, he thrust his chin into the air. He breathed roughly, hair stuck to his forehead as he was whisked at a speed he didn't think he'd ever gone before. His eyes flew open, and they flickered from side to side, trying to get a good look at his surroundings before he inevitably was plunged back into the blackness once more, thrashing for something to stop him and soundlessly screaming Colby's name.

_" our lives are rivers, gliding free_  
_to that unfathomed, boundless sea,_  
_the silent grave._  
_thither all earthly pomp and boast_  
_roll, to be swallowed up and lost_  
_in one dark wave._  
coplas de manrique; pg 11 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got this hundred year old poem book so yeah you're getting some cool ass excerpts from that


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot on my mind. sorry this chapter was so hastily thrown together. im really just, i don't know, broken.

" a man lied alone in the winter wood,  
skin pale and body still,  
frost danced above his mind,  
eyes closed against his will

" the call of defeat was payment  
but he could not repent,  
for death was invading,  
and it shall not relent.

" take them ' he said,  
' take the blues of my eyes ;  
for I will not abandon  
the colors of the skies.  
midnight mass for the dying year ; page 362

The wind howled over a someone laying lifeless in the forest, blowing away the previously rapidly growing pile of freshly fallen snowflakes piling on Sam's front. He breathed, rising and falling in shape every three seconds or so. The snow around seemed melted, but was in fact just ice, the same kind that grew on his skin, patches of frost flourshing in flower-like patterns past his now gray-twinged tone. His blue lips were parted, but slightly, only to take in air as a last ditch attempt to keep death away.

The screams for help had died down a long time ago, and he'd accepted that he wouldn't be found, at least not any time soon. It'd been an hour at least since he got hold of a rock in the flurry of molten ice, pulled himself onto shore crying and yelling for the sight of a certain blue eyed brunette who'd failed him. The plan did not work. A sense of betrayal sat in his heart, but he knew the failure was not on purpose. It had been an accident.

It still didn't make anything feel better.

He felt dead, and, in fact, he should've been dead. Hypothermia and blood loss from wherever was staining the snow red probably should have claimed him ages ago. His heart was beating at a much slower speed than normal, and he could've sworn the snowflakes above him were turning electric blue - all symptoms, he knew, of mild hypothermia. With all of that, he shouldn't have been conscious, his body should've been lulling him to sleep to save him from the pain. He should've been almost, reduced to a frozen heap at the bottom of a hill.

But he wasn't. Something was holding him back. 

He shook his head, groaning slowly as he moved his shoulders, upper body, trying to keep the feeling in them. Everything was quiet- even the river's howl was pushed down to a dull roar. All he could hear was his own, ragged breathing, see it in clouds above his face. Was he going to stay like that forever? Cold and alone in the middle of a foreign place, never to see something familiar again? It was a terrifying thought, and in his muddled mind, it almost overtook the sound of his name being called throughout the trees. It sounded miles away, but it was there- hope in a previously hopeless situation.

"Here," he spoke, attempting to shout, voice raw in the still air, "I'm here.."

Soon, the calls became clearer, and he doubled his attempt to be heard, hoarse throat making it seem impossible. He moved on the icy ground, pushing himself backward and sitting himself up on a tree. It was oddly warm behind him, the rough bark digging into his back and snowflakes falling off his front. At that moment, he assumed anything but the ground would feel just a bit soothing to him.

In a matter of minutes, the familiar sound of shoes crunching through the fallen snow awoke him from his heat-induced trance, and he opened his lips once more, muttering an even weaker word that was incomprehensible to anyone but him. The calls stopped for a second, and then the footsteps were panicked, racing toward him like the person was being chased.

At the sight of Colby, Sam felt himself put on a bittersweet smirk.

"Why the fuck didn't you grab my ankle?"

Colby, who was standing motionless over the hollow where Sam had crawled to die, immediately responded, but not in a retort like he would've preferred. "Holy _shit_ man," He said oh so eloquently, "You look like a fucking corpse."

This statement caused Sam to glance down, spotting his grey complexion, skin the color of a stone statue with only a hint of his usual peachy overtone. He gulped, feeling the fish-tasting river water that had likely froze in his mouth slide down his throat. He grimaced. "Yes," He responded simply, carefully flexing his fingers.

"Well, we have to get you out of here!" Colby shouted, dark brown hair a total mess, twigs and somehow a stray, crinkled leaf sticking crookedly out of it as he shook his head. "Are you hurt? You're bleeding!"

"Where?" Sam asked wearily, feeling his bones creak as he shifted in his spot. 

Colby rushed over, all mother hen as he pulled up his sleeve to wipe away the blood gushing from somewhere up on Sam's forehead, a line cut straight through the end of his eyebrow. Sam hazily remembered being hit in the face by some sort of very large, very blunt rock sometime down the river, so he assumed that was what it was from. 

"Oh man, this is really deep," Colby huffed, blue eyes wide and pupils small, "stitches worthy. We really need to go, I can stitch this." Their eyes met, and Sam sent him a confused look, but Colby looked away. He appeared flustered - short smile settled on pink lips, cheeks an even darker shade. "Yeah, I watched a youtube video on how to stitch like, wounds. Get over yourself."

A not so bittersweet grin now sat on Sam's face as Colby helped him up. You know when your legs lose feeling, and you go to stand and it feels like your feet hit the ground way sooner then they should, and all the pins and needles in the world just stab you in the foot? Yeah, that's how it was, immediately, but one hundred times worse than anything Sam had experienced before. He let out a yelp, cold limbs shaking violently as he pushed himself into Colby's apple-scented warmth, realizing how fucking unfortunate this whole thing was.

 

 

" then come wild weather,  
come sleet and come snow  
we will stand by each other,  
however it will blow.  
annie of tharaw ; pg 92

This situation painfully reminded Sam of that night in Wisconsin. Cold, everything numb, being shoved into a car seat by Colby next to a snow-covered forest. This one involved more water, though, and a lot less paranormal shit. I mean, at least he wasn't crying blood. He was ready for another silent, painful car ride, but this time they didn't immediately speed off onto the highway. Now, Colby turned the key and put the heat up as high as it would go, grabbing a familiar black backpack out of the trunk before hopping next to Sam and slamming the door.

The car sprung to life, and Sam felt hot, plastic-scented air being blown in his face. It felt good, a contrast to his internal temperature at that moment, but it seemed to make him feel even colder, shiver harder as his body tried to suck in all the heat it could and got just a bit overworked at doing so.

He was about to ask Colby to turn it down and confirm his skewed mental state when the brunette pulled him into his grasp, strong, so perfectly warm arms wrapping around his frozen body. His earlier worries were immediately gone, replaced with the softest embrace he'd ever felt.

"Here, just lean into me," Came Colby's savory tone, so god fucking damn reassurring it made Sam want to cry. He had to remind himself that Colby was indeed his significant other, they were dating, and he had the right to enjoy this. Even if he was in shock and had almost froze to death minutes before. 

Colby manuevered carefully until Sam's head dropped gently into his lap. He let it happen, closing his eyes and willing his body to get warmer. He breathed deeply, in and out, fingers shoved under his arms in an attempt to warm them faster. His extremities were so cold, and dimly, he wondered if he'd gotten frostbite, but the thought disappeared almost as quick as it came, his brain telling him he wouldn't have been able to feel them if they were frostbitten.

Suddenly, Sam felt fingers running through his basically frozen hair, and his sluggish heart beat started to rise in speed. In all honesty, it felt wrong, but so, so right at the same time. Cliche as hell, but it was true. Every cell in Sam's body lived for that feeling, affection being reciprocated, love being mutual. He needed to say something - anything - to make sure Colby knew how much he adored him.

"I love you," Was all he could come up with to say, a garbled reply confirming his infatuation. To add, he murmured, "I couldn't love anyone but you." There was a palpable pause, but all Colby did was pull his head closer to his abdomen, a little hum of satisfaction making Sam's heart soar just a little higher.

 

Sam and Colby hadn't been home in two days. They said they'd gone off to film a video somewhere in the midwest of oregon, and would be back the next morning. Presently, it was the day they should've been back, but it wasn't morning. It was ten pm, and everybody, including their new roommate, were sitting in the living room playing a video game.

"What is going on with Sam?" Came Corey's voice. His eyes were trained on the clock. "I swear, every time Sam goes to "film a video" he comes back with a new injury, every time." At the silence his statement earned, he scoffed. "I mean, none of you have said anything, but you've all seen it, right?"

"Yeah," Aaron spoke, setting the controller on the floor next to him, back propped up against the couch. "Remember when Sam went to film that eleven miles challenge video? Well, after you all went to bed, me and Colby got a call saying his car broke down." He sighed. "When they came back, they were being all weird. I could see, like, little scratches all over Sam's face. They didn't know I was there, and the both went into Sam's room."

Jake, who knew Sam the least out of all of them, looked around dumbfounded. "Isn't that a little weird, Aaron?" He asked, trying to make light of the situation. "A little stalky?"  
"Yeah, I guess," Aaron murmured sarcastically. "But he's been like this for months. You wouldn't know."

"And Colby's starting to act up too," Corey bit in, "Really weird around Sam. I don't really know how to put it, but he's like, protective? When we did that explore video a few weeks ago, he wouldn't leave Sam's side." All three of them nodded to themselves, taking in the information, though Jake was still a bit confused. "I know they're close, but it's like he's worried I'm going to hit him whenever I'm around him. It's just really fricking weird."

No one was even paying attention to the game anymore - it ran in the background, and none of them gave it much thought. It really just served as a light. "What could it be, then?" Jake said. "Like, what's happening to Sam?"

That was the question that not one of them knew the answer to. Corey recounted his story about the screaming in the street that ended up being "nothing", both Sam and Colby acting very, very secretive when he found them on the doorstep, and the tunnel, where Sam went missing for seven whole hours before returning to their car, cheery and gleeful with a bruised face. They discussed the night at Sunken City, where Sam apparently "lost his footing" and was almost killed from the fall into the ocean. The whole drama channel scandal accusing Sam of hiding his injuries from a supposed attack, but nothing coming of it. Him starting to lose an unhealthy amount fo weight, never hanging out with Katrina, even though she was supposed to be his girlfriend. The extended trip to Wisconsin, Sam coming home sick, but nothing was explicitly odd about that. Wisconsin was cold as fuck, and the flu was going around there, so it made sense, but that's when Colby also started acting weird. Nothing, even that simple sickness that could be easily explained, made any sense at all.

"Is it like, blackmail maybe, somehow?"

"Maybe Sam's in like, one of those fight clubs." Jake deadpanned, serious in his suggestion. 

"Or, you know, not." Corey retorted. "Maybe he just attracts trouble or something."

"Oh, I don't think he attracts trouble," Aaron broke in, tone amused. "I think trouble attracts him-"

The sound of the a lock unlocking.

All three of them sprang upward, rushing out of the living room and to the door. When they rounded the corner, it opened, and in stepped Colby himself, followed by Sam, scarf rapped oddly high around his neck. He looked up, closing the door, and his eyes widened in fright as he noticed them all. And, in return, their eyes widened when they noticed something they were all expecting - a butterfly bandage, taped carefully over a red, stitched wound on the side of Sam's head, dangerously close to his eye.

"Hello!" Sam greeted half enthusiastically, pushing his hair to cover more of the injury before rushing forward. He was trying to direct their attention away from it. "Sorry we're late! We had-"

"Car troubles," Colby responded quickly and calmly, glaring at Sam. Even though they knew it was a lie, it was still scarily convincing. He was really good at lying, barely even paying attention to the three as he shrugged off his jacket. "We were coming home when we ran out of gas." He sighed. "We're sorry, we should've called, but we didn't."

Jake, who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut, gestured to Sam's head. "So, what's up with that?" Corey both let out a little gasp like noise, and Aaron quietly told him to shut the fuck up. Despite this, the brunette went on. "We were just talkin' about how you two have been acting weird."

The look Sam gave Colby was incredibly telling.

Colby sighed. "We were filming an exploration video, and Sam fell from a tree." He glanced over at the blonde. "Lucky it wasn't worse, but, he broke the sd card on the way down, somehow." 

Sam picked up on it, and nodded his head down in mock embarassment. "Yeah, so we'll have to go get a new one. But we'll do that tomorrow." He glanced back at Colby, before moving to walk in the direction of the stairs.

"So, uh goodnight!"

Dumbfounded, they watched Sam and Colby rush up the stairs like their lives depended on it, disappearing above. And then, once again, Corey spoke up.

"What the fuck, Jake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lucky none of my commenting readers saw my bottom notes before I deleted them. ha. thanks for the support, but saying I feel 'broken' is cringey as fuck and im sorryy you had to see that. enjoy the chapter

It was quiet, silence only disturbed by the ever present sound of passing cars. He hid by the gate, back to the road as he watched, filmed, everything he could see. Silhouettes in the windows above, the camera caught the faint outline of a small child, bow wrapped neatly in curly hair. The creature watched back, head tilted toward the glint in the bushes across the yard. The slight light, blinking on and off through the foliage. The hunched black shape, almost unnoticable. It saw him, and he saw it- but they did nothing to redirect each other's attention. They just stared, endlessly, at each other's silhouettes.

 

 

"Shit shit shit shit-" Sam hissed, closing his door. Colby had gone to his room, woke Katrina and sent her to Sam's room, just to avoid suspicion. "They know something's going on, Kat, they know-"

Katrina walked up to him, setting her hand lightly on his shoulder, a very Katrina-esque move. Something he greatly appreciated about her. "They're not going to find out about the relationship, Sam," she stated reassuringly, "I'll make sure of it. Act jealous at the mention of it, if you'd like."

Sam, despite her tone, pulled his shoulder away. "No," he responded slowly, "Not about that. You don't understand, you don't know.."

"What is it, then?"

Sam regretted never telling Katrina about the sight. It would've eliminated any tension or secrecy between the three of them, and it'd be much easier to talk to her about things that he usually talked about with Colby. And all this new stuff, the man over the phone, threatening them with their privacy - it was all too much to bear alone, even with Colby by his side. They had no one to rely on. And, just to make it worse, no one would believe their story. Katrina wouldn't believe it - Sam could see ghosts? It was impossible. Even though she herself was a believer of the supernatural, she was scared of it, which made it all worse. She'd leave him, and their cover would be close to gone, if not entirely blown.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Sam muttered after a moment of pondering. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to calm himself down. A breathing technique Colby had graciously taught him- slow, three second breaths, in and out. It sounded dumb, but it helped, probably too much for Sam to willingly admit. "Nothing important, Kat."

The woman behind him pursed her lips, before she shook her head. "I know you're not telling me something," she answered, "but it's fine. If you want to keep secrets, you can. I don't judge, but whatever, it's your choice." Despite her words, sarcasm was detectable.

"I mean," Sam started, feeling the need to defend his cause, "I would tell you if I could. I just can't, or I don't think I can. It's, just difficult to explain, understand, everything. I wish I could." His head started to pound, and every light seemed to drill a hole in his eyes. He closed them. How would one explain in any sane-looking way that they could see dead people? Just state it, like that kid from the sixth sense, or try to go all technical? He didn't even know if he could go technical. It's not like he knew why he'd been given this power- this curse.

"You could like, try."

A sigh escaped Sam's lips. He brought his hands up to his face, before muttering, "I will in the morning," he promised slowly, aware that he would not try and tell her in the morning. "I'm tired and I think I have a migraine." At the mention of it, another pang ran through his skull, and he groaned, wishing he had some ibuprofen somewhere that he could take. 

"Speaking of migraines," Katrina went on, dragging out the conversation much to Sam's dismay. "What's that from?"

He could just tell she was talking about the reddening wound across the side of his head. It wasn't very long, but it was an eyesore to say the least. An eyesore that would cause more scarring, permanent stuff that he couldn't hide under clothes. Anything he filmed would have backlash from the sight of it, and it seemed every single one of his fans thought he was getting beat up by someone, something, that he wouldn't tell them. People made theories about it, blaming Corey, Jake, or Aaron, and some even went as far as to say it was Devyn or Colby. It made him want to scream, but he knew that would only make it worse. If he ignored it for long enough, and stopped getting into trouble, it'd all go away. So, he decided to solely be the camera man in his next videos, limit the amount of face time.

"I fell off a tree like an idiot, Kat," Sam went with Colby's lie- any others would cause confusion if Katrina discussed it with the other guys. "Just me being stupid, like normal."

 

"So, what'd he say?"

Sam absentmindedly rubbed the two shiny, white colored pills between his fingers, staring listlessly at the plastic casing and powder inside. "Nothing, yet," he murmured quietly. "He watched it though. Almost immediately as I sent it."

"I don't know if that's a good or bad thing," Colby began, turning off the faucet with a bittersweet smile, "But let's take it as good." He set the half full glass next to Sam before crossing his arms. "At least he hasn't threatened us again."

The blonde nodded, pausing his twiddling to set the nameless drug back on the marble counter. "Yeah, silence is way better than more threats." He exhaled, shaking his head before taking the pills as slowly as possible. They tasted bitter for the few seconds they stayed in his mouth, and he was glad Colby had convinced him not to dry swallow them.

As Sam set the glass back onto the table, Aaron rounded the corner. His eyes were slightly narrowed, stance calculated. He was suspicious.

"Good morning," Sam greeted, forcing a smile as he warily stared at his roommate.

"More like afternoon," Colby mused, eyes flicking to the small digital clock in the corner of the kitchen. "It's literally two, dude."

Aaron nodded, corners of his mouth upturning in a subtle grin, like he'd noticed something. He met Colby's eyes before turning to Sam, who had been staring at his water glass, trying to sink away from the conversation. "So, Sam," He started, disregarding Colby's words entirely, "How ya' feeling?"

A sharp inhale came from Sam's lungs. "Sick." he responded simply, deciding to stick to the simple stuff just so he wouldn't accidentally give Aaron any clues. "I mean, least I have an excuse to get up so late." He let the last part serve as a little joke, to make their interactions more friendly. After all, neither Sam nor Colby had really hung out with the rest of the guys as of late. Barely posted any real videos, and their income was low. It probably made them look worse.

"Oh, I've been up for an hour," Aaron responded quickly. "Just, you know, uh, walking around."

Colby nodded, but Sam could tell even he was running out of things to say. Walking around? What was that supposed to mean? Just listlessly traveling the halls of the house? "Have you let your dog outside?" He finally responded, and Aaron's eyes widened in realization. He murmured a quick no before rushing up to his room, probably going to vlog his daily thing with Buddy after cleaning up whatever mess the dog had likely made.

After the footsteps faded into background noise, Sam let himself breathe. "Everyone knows something's up," He whispered to Colby. "It's obvious they've all been talking. Conspiring together. The stuff they've seen alone might not be much to go on, but after they realize everyone's seen something significant?" He sighed, burying his head into the counter, smooth surface cool against his skin. "We're pretty much screwed."

"Yeah, pretty much," the brunette replied sarcastically, "everyone's gonna know about everything, us and your stupid sight. We're not just screwed, we're absolutely fucked." 

All he received in reply was a small shake of the head. Sam was out of it, the pills already starting to do their job. His head began to spin with all the possibilities of how their lives could be ruined, and he felt himself getting more and more tired as the seconds passed by.

"We should just tell them," Came Colby's voice once more. "Get it over with. Better than them finding out by other means, right?"  
Sam nodded again, not quite processing the question. He hummed, absentmindedly.

A pause.

"Your head, um, feeling any better?"

Another nod, a hum.

"Sam?"

Silence.

 

 

Apparently, the pills he had Sam take weren't ibuprofen. 

Colby glared at the bottle he'd taken from the medicine cabinet, reading the now evidently fake brand name - Avarelle - and all the little details on the sides. Dizziness, headache, nervousness, upset stomach, mild heartburn, nausea, vomiting - nothing about almost immediately unconsciousness, sleep for what seemed to be hours. At first, he thought Sam might've been allergic to the stuff, but that proved wrong after a quick google search, revealing that this was not some knock off ibuprofen, and in fact didn't actually exist. So that begged the question - what was it?

They looked like regular old pills. Maybe a little weird for just over the counter stuff, but still. Nothing exactly peculiar about it- white powder in a clear capsule, completely ordinary, but also completely impossible to identify. Colby had already searched the web for anything on it, but there were no helpful results. The only things he'd managed to find were threads with people asking the exact same question as him, but instead of their friend, their boyfriend, ingesting ones of these pills, they just found one and were curious. He wished their situation was that casual.

Who, who had put it in the cabinet? It couldn't have been one of their roommates, and even without thinking about it Colby knew for a fact it had been the mysterious person who blackmailed them before. Who could still have been blackmailing them now. 

Then, the last question. Why?

Thoughts of someone coming up behind him and whisking Sam away in his incapacitated state flew through his head, and he rushed to the glass door. He saw a person, and for a moment his heart stopped, but was returned to it's normal state when he noticed it was just Aaron, holding his camera and sitting next to the wall while Buddy sniffed absentmindedly at the grass across the way.

Aaron seemed to have noticed him slamming his entire body against the door, because he looked up from what he was doing, their eyes meeting. Colby glanced back to see Sam still passed out with his face in the counter, so he opened up the door, peeking out.

"Aaron," He hissed urgently, knuckles white on the frame. "I need help."

Aaron was still filming, and he angled the camera toward Colby. He tried to lessen the paleness of his face. "Help with what?" He mused.

Screw it, Colby thought, before opening his mouth. "Sam's passed out on the counter and he won't wake up." He restrained from lying, his fuck everything Sam could be dying attitude throwing past his new secretive tendencies. 

"What?" Came the response, Aaron's eyes going wide, but there was still a bit of doubt there. Of course, with their prank-raged household, anything could be a joke. So, he stood, camera still in hand and rolling, coming over to the door. Colby let him slip in, calling Buddy behind him before he slid the door shut.

"I don't know what he swallowed," Colby murmured shakily, rushing over to the kitchen island and grabbing the faux ibuprofen. "I thought it was like, pain pills, right? They were upstairs, so you know, I gave Sam two, the regular amount-" his hands shook as he spoke, "And now, he just, he just won't wake up-"

Aaron had moved toward Sam while he was talking, and his hands were now on the blonde's shoulders, camera set facing them as he gently shook him and tentatively said his name. He was still doubtful of the reality of everything. "Hey, wake up," He urged, mostly ignoring Colby as he went on.

"And he's not allergic or anything, I know, cause get this- these don't even exist! 'Avarelle' isn't a brand, and I should've known that, but I didn't pay attention cause I had other things on my mind-"

The bottle was taken from Colby's hands. Aaron studied it, the little pills clinking around inside as he did. Finally, he opened it, struggling for a second with the child lock - which would've been funny any other time - before he dropped a few of the things into his palm.

"No numbers, letters," Aaron muttered as he flipped one around. "This isn't- this isn't good, Colby. We have to call an ambulance." He poured the pills back in the bottle, capping it as he rushed over to Sam. 

"No, no ambulance," Colby answered. The man had warned them - if they went to any kind of authorities at all, he'd release the video. "Just no. He seems fine, right? Just, uh, asleep?"

Aaron grabbed Sam's wrist, and Colby watched stiffly as he took his pulse, lifted his face off the table so he was in a more sitting-like position. It was blissful, and would've looked quick peaceful if not for the ever-present wound sticking out like a sore thumb. But that wasn't the only thing that did.

"Hickies?"

Colby swallowed. "Wow, Kat really went at it," He joked quickly, suddenly uncomfortable.

Aaron nodded, smirking a bit before he moved his hand up to Sam's neck, checking his pulse there, too. He seemed satisfied with the results. "It's normal. Not slow or anything. Are you sure they're fake?" He sighed. "A lot of things have been happening to Sam, right? Maybe he's just exhausted, and yeah, this bottle says a side effect is fatigue. Maybe it just pushed him over."

Colby bit his lip. If he wanted to dissuade Aaron from the idea of taking Sam to the hospital, he'd have to agree. Sam was fine except for being unconscious, right? So it was fine. "Oh, yeah, probably," He exhaled shakily. "With the head injury and all? I could see that." He didn't even try to argue with the whole fake narcotics thing. He knew for a fact Avarelle didn't exist, but he couldn't take the risk of bringing Sam to a doctor. "Poor Sam, falling from trees, haha." He kept the nervousness from his laugh.

Aaron nodded in agreement, but he was still suspicious. Colby didn't blame him after all - with all the mistakes they were making, someone would find out the truth sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need to stop oversharing with the internet


End file.
